PARIS—THE FRENCH CHARACTER AND MANNERS.
We do not by any means consider ourselves as qualified to enter fully into the interesting subject of the national character of the French; but we shall venture to state, in this place, what appeared to us its most striking peculiarities, particularly as it is observed at Paris. Our stay in the capital was too short, and our opportunities of observation too limited, to entitle us to speak with confidence; but it is to be remembered on the other hand, that there is a surprising uniformity of character among the French, which facilitates observation. The habit of constant intercourse in society, which constitutes their greatest pleasure, and has made them, in their own opinion, the most polished nation on earth, appears not merely to have assimilated their manners to one another, in the manner so finely illustrated by the celebrated simile of Sterne[2], but to have engendered a kind of conventional standard character, by which all those we observe are more or less modelled.
The most striking and formidable part of their general character is, the contempt for religion which is so frequently and openly expressed. In all countries there are men of a selfish and abstracted turn of mind, who are more disposed than others to religious argument and doubt; and in all, there are a greater number, whose worldly passions lead them to the neglect, or hurry them on to the violation of religious precepts; but a great nation, among whom a cool selfish regard to personal comfort and enjoyment has been deliberately substituted for religious feeling, and where it is generally esteemed reasonable and wise to oppose and wrestle down, by metaphysical arguments, the natural and becoming sentiments of piety, as they arise in the human breast, is hitherto, and it is to be hoped will long continue, an anomaly in the history of mankind.
We heard it estimated at Paris, that 40,000 out of 600,000 inhabitants of that town attend church; one half of which number, they say, are actuated in so doing by real sentiments of devotion; but to judge from the very small numbers whom we have ever seen attending the regular service in any of the churches, we should think this proportion greatly overrated. Of those whom we have seen there, at least two-thirds have been women above fifty, or girls under fifteen years of age. In all Catholic countries, Sunday is a day of amusement and festivity, as well as of religion—but it is generally, also, one of relaxation from business: in Paris, we could see very little signs of the latter in the forenoons, but the amusements and dissipation of the capital were visibly increased in the evenings; and the Parisians have some reason for their remark, that their day of rest is changed to Monday, when the effect of their last night's dissipation wholly incapacitates them for exertion.
It is clear, that it is quite absurd to attempt altering the manner of spending the Sundays at Paris, while the sentiments of the people, in regard to religion, continue such as at present; but it must be admitted, on the other hand, that their habits, as to the way of spending Sundays, re-act powerfully on their sentiments; and that the minds of the lower orders, in particular, are much debased by the want of what have been emphatically called "these precious breathing times for the labouring part of the community."
Frenchmen of the higher ranks seem, at present, generally disposed to wave the subject of religion; but those of the middling ranks, by whom the business of the country is mainly carried on, do not scruple to express their contempt of it;—they applaud with enthusiasm all irreligious sentiments in the theatres, and seldom mention priests, of any persuasion, without the epithet of sacrès.
We were informed in Holland, that the Frenchmen who were sent to that country in official capacities, military or civil, manifested on all occasions the utmost contempt for religion. A French General, quartered in the house of a respectable gentleman in Amsterdam, inquired the reason, the first Sunday that he was there, of the family going out in their best clothes; and being told they were going to church, he expressed his surprise, saying,—"Now that you are a part of the great nation, it is time for you to have done with that nonsense."
To an Englishman, who has been accustomed to see the ordinances of religion regularly observed by the great majority of his countrymen, the neglect of them by the French people appears very singular, and even unnatural. When we afterwards visited Flanders, and observed the manifest respect of the people for religion—when when saw the numberless handsome churches in the villages, and the frequent religious processions in the streets of the towns—when we entered the Great Cathedral at Antwerp, and found vast numbers of people, of both sexes, and all ranks and ages, on their knees, engaged, with the appearance of sincere devotion, in the solemn and striking service of vespers, we could not help saying among ourselves, that this people, for better reasons than mere political convenience, deserved to be separated from the French.
Yet, we do not mean to say that the French are wholly, or even generally devoid of religious feeling; on the contrary, we believe it may often be seen to break out in a very striking manner, even in the conversation of those who are accustomed to think it wise to express contempt for it. A Frenchman, full of enthusiasm about the glory of his country, who was talking to us of the deeds and sufferings of the French army in Russia, concluded his description of the latter with these emphatic words: "Ah! Monsieur, Ce n'est pas les Russes; C'est le bon Dieu qui a fait cela."